


my husband's hotter than yours.

by Icanwritesee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, just fluff, like diabetes-causing or somethin, seriously, there should be a warning here on AO3 for too much fluff, yeah I had fun tagging this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:36:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icanwritesee/pseuds/Icanwritesee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>short scene between our lovebirds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my husband's hotter than yours.

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a drawing made by Deebzy: http://deebzy.tumblr.com/post/85700766989/they-love-each-other of those two talking about how 'my husband's hotter than yours', and since I was in a real desperate need of fluff today, I did this. enjoy.

being Sherlock Holmes wasn't an easy task most of the time. included interacting with people in all the possible emotional states - from maniacal laughter to hysterical tears and tearing their hair out. not to mention the semtex vests being attached to the most valuable human being in the world, **the only one**. which made the task even more problematic that it already was.

but no matter what, maintaining his newspaper persona was far worse than crime-fighting. especially when he despised the bigger part of those people. they did everything they could to destroy John after the Fall, therefore he'd never forgive them.

because Sherlock Holmes, despite being called selfish at least five times a day, was not selfish when it came to his own life. he'd happily give it in order to protect the good doctor if he was in danger. even if it meant being hated by him. he was fine with it. really.

John's life was his ultimate priority since the moment the doctor killed that cabby all those months ago in order to save him from his own stupidity.

*

first seconds are defining. human species has learned to determine whether they're in danger or not long before it was able to speak with words. it takes 20 seconds, more or less. for Sherlock it's around 3-5 seconds, and he's able to see person's whole life written in their body language, posture or image they create.

when it came to John Watson, he'd first thought he was just an ex-military with alcoholic older brother who's left his wife. he saw psychosomatic limp caused by an actual war wound. he saw John loved the feeling of comfort, was generally attached to tradition, but didn't have good relationship with the brother. that he hated his tiny bedsit. that he used to have eating and sleeping disorder. that he used to be suicidal. that, altogether, was an example of a soldier without a war. nothing unusual. _how wrong he was._ what he _didn't_ see, was his caring for Sherlock, tendency to nag him to eat and sleep more. that he's not just a mind, but body too. that despite everything Sherlock told him, John wouldn't just leave him like any other person did. that after admiration, there would come his _love_.

it scared him to death at first because he quickly started to respond to John's feelings like it was with Victor years ago. but John, luckily, was **nothing** like Victor. soon, John became **Everything**.

*

Sherlock heard sounds of a bare feet on the floor and squeaking of a bedroom's door. John woke up, then.

he adjusted his microscope and after a few minutes he felt soft lips kissing his neck followed by soft whisper:

\- morning, love - husky morning voice sent warm sparks through his body. it never ceases to amaze him, the way he reacted to John's affections.

\- morning, John - he answered, raising his eyes to look at his whole world. John was still deliciously sleep-ruffled, smiling at him with sparks in his stormy eyes. he sat on the detective's lap, putting his arm around his neck. Sherlock kissed his temple, nose buried in golden hair.

\- missed you tonight - murmured John, snuggling close. - those bloody experiments will be the end of me, I swear.

\- mmm, just occupying myself - he answered, bringing him even closer. John's fingers quickly found his nape curls, and Sherlock couldn't suppress low rumble building up at the back of his throat. blonde chuckled quietly to himself.

\- I have a few ideas in mind of how to occupy your dashing transport, my bee.

Sherlock's lips curled in a lazy smile.

\- my husband's hotter than yours - he teased John, who smiled and simply said:

\- then, _obviously_ , you haven't met _my_ husband.

\- oh? is he a handsome blonde army doctor with lips one cannot stop kissing like mine?

\- nope, he's tall and mysterious brunette detective with long coat and perfectly round arse.

\- yikes.

\- exactly.

John intertwined his left hand with his right one.

\- heard the army bloke one's _terribly_ smitten with his husband - he whispered dangerously low exactly the way he knew pushed Sherlock's all buttons.

\- no way.

\- yup.

\- but _I_ heard detective has his soldier on his mind _all. the. time_.

few seconds later John asked:

\- wanna show me?

\- oh God, yes.


End file.
